


When Your Demons Come Calling

by heretoday898



Category: DCU, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual, Crossover, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Nipple Play, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rare Pairings, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 17:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16123520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heretoday898/pseuds/heretoday898
Summary: The man was stunning, built, even though he was a few inches shorter than Slade.  As a whole he was quite the package, glib drawling tongue and a beautiful body.  Golden brown hair with a dusting of freckles that Slade bet would allow the man to forever keep his boyish charm.  But it was the man’s eyes, golden green and cracked beyond repair that gave Slade pause, eyes that had Slade accepting the offered drink with a nod to the chair opposite him.I don't think this pairing exists, but it's been knocking around my head for a while, so, here we go.





	When Your Demons Come Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is consensual even though they do not discuss things beforehand, I don't recommend doing that, always talk to your partner, in all aspects of life. Communication is key to healthy relationships :D
> 
> That being said, this wasn't originally going to be D/s but Slade is one toppy bastard. It was also supposed to be just smut, but I can't seem to do that.
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

This wasn’t normal for him.  It’s not that he was abstinent or unable to find a quick easy fuck, but he wasn’t that young anymore, priorities and needs changed.  It wasn’t normal for Slade to allow himself to be picked up in a bar.  Hell, it wasn’t normal for Slade to allow anyone to approach him in a bar.  But the man who bought him a round set something off in Slade, something that curled through his veins and eased the set of the mercenary’s shoulders.  That reaction by itself set Slade on alert, eye trailing over his companion. 

The man was stunning, built, even though he was a few inches shorter than Slade.  As a whole he was quite the package, glib drawling tongue and a beautiful body.  Golden brown hair with a dusting of freckles that Slade bet would allow the man to forever keep his boyish charm.  But it was the man’s eyes, golden green and cracked beyond repair that gave Slade pause, eyes that had Slade accepting the offered drink with a nod to the chair opposite him. 

The man, Dean, slid into the seat, cocky smile pulling soft lips up at the corners.  Slade grinned back, teeth flashing as he put out his hand, smooth pleasantries crossing his own lips.  Dean’s hand is warm and ridged with callouses and scars.  It’s a hand that matches perfectly to the gun tucked in Dean’s waist and the various knives strapped to his body.  Slade leans back, his hand caressing Dean’s as it slides out of the other man’s palm.  It’s as much an invitation as the man is going to get from Slade.  The lidded green eyes are all the answer Slade needs.

It becomes apparent, however, that Dean has some more playful tendencies.  Slade gets to see them up close and personal a few minutes later when Dean saunters over to the pool table, racking up the balls as he tilted his head in invitation.  Slade let out a low hum, he had to admire the man’s cheekiness, something that always had the potential to rub Slade right.  It spoke of resilience and a strong enough attitude to make it through whatever shit life threw at a person.  Slade paused by the pool table as Dean leaned over and lined up his shot, something edging at the back of his mind. 

The game progressed, and Slade was tempted at the beginning to let Dean win, now halfway through, the mercenary realized he was being hustled.  Sure, they weren’t playing for money or anything really, but Slade was being hustled none the less.  Dean was being flirty, saccharine sweet or as sweet as one could be while wearing flannel and speaking in a gruff midwestern drawl.  Either way, he was being a distraction, a pretty distraction that kept sending warning signals through Slade’s subconscious.  If Dean didn’t have such a distinct look, Slade could’ve sworn they had met before. 

It took Dean sinking the 8 ball into a corner pocket with a pleased grin for the realization to slowly wash over Slade.  Dick Grayson, Slade’s eye narrowed on the celebratory man, it was Dick Grayson who Dean reminded him of.  Well, to an extent, Slade amended as he caught the jaded green eyes from across the pool table.  Those eyes, those eyes were all Jason Todd.  Slade let a slow, predatory smile crawl across his face before he turned and made his way back to his table to drop some bills for the tab and grab both his and Dean’s jackets. 

“Let’s go,” Slade tossed Dean his jacket and headed out the door, smirking at the muffled curse behind him as Dean hurried out the door as well.

“So, yours or mine?” Dean’s eyes flickered over to Slade.  The mercenary didn’t deign to answer, instead Slade stopped next to his bike and pulled out a helmet, tossing it towards Dean. 

“Yeah, not gonna happen man.  I’m all for going to yours, but no way in hell am I leaving my Baby,” Dean tossed the helmet back as he dug a pair of keys out of his pocket.

Slade watched Dean as he made his way over to a beautiful beast of a muscle car.  The man slid into the driver side, car purring to life as Slade’s own bike thrummed underneath him.  He pulled out into traffic as Dean followed, leading the man to Slade’s hotel.  A quick park job at the hotel and Slade watched as Dean pulled a worn army duffle out of the trunk, the man snorting at Slade’s suspicious gaze.

“Relax, just some stuff I don’t go anywhere without,” Dean grinned, “it’s not like I’m moving in with you.”

Slade repressed an eye roll and kept his face impassive as he led Dean through the hotel and to his room.  Once inside, Dean tossed the duffle on the far side of the room before giving a slow whistle and a turn. 

“Way nicer than anything I’ve ever stayed in,” Dean grinned over his shoulder. 

Slade filed that information away, the hotel room wasn’t something the mercenary would consider nice, functional at best.  He was after all, a little way off the beaten path from his usual contracts. 

“Stay in a lot of hotels, have you?” Slade inquired as he stripped out of his jacket and boots. 

“Grew up in motels, so no, not a lot of hotels,” Dean chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“The car is more your home,” Slade’s eye tracked Dean as the man removed his coat and boots as well.

“Oh yeah, been on the road my entire life, eatin’ in diners and drinking in bars.  No surprise I kicked your ass at pool,” Dean smirked, the last part muffled as he turned to take the gun out of his waistband, setting it on the nightstand.

“What was the pool game was supposed to determine, who was going to be in charge?” Slade raised a mocking eyebrow.

“Nah, that was just for fun, to let me get a feel for you,” Dean shrugged with a slight smile, “believe me, I knew how this night was gonna go and who was in charge when I bought you that drink.”

“Boy, you have no idea how this night is going to go,” Slade had moved up behind Dean, head bent as his breath ghosted across the man’s neck.

“Well, despite all this talk, it’s been going my way the entire time,” Dean turned his head, smirk brushing against Slade’s cheek.

Heat coiled through Slade’s stomach at the mischievous challenge alighting those green eyes.  Quick and deadly, Slade’s hand curled around Dean’s chin as he tilted the man’s head and crushed their lips together.  Dean let out a strangled moan as his teeth bit into Slade’s lips, body turning as his hands came up to grip Slade’s shoulders.  Slade’s other hand came up to grip Dean’s waist, the one around his chin moving softly to rest on the man’s throat as he turned them towards the bed. 

Dean took a step back, chest heaving as his legs bumped into the side of the bed.  Slade let a slow satisfied smirk slide across his face as his hands fell away from Dean’s body.  Green eyes bored into Slade’s single blue one, plump lips swollen and gleaming with saliva.  The heat thrumming through Slade’s veins crackled and surged at the sight before him.  Slade took the moment to check himself, everything straining to carve back the layers of the man in front of him, to flay him open and see what it was that made men like him so intriguing to Slade.

“Strip,” Slade spoke, tone firm as he watched Dean’s throat bob and eyes dilate.

Interestingly enough, Dean removed his socks, belt, and jeans first while black boxer briefs, a black Henley, and the flannel remained.  Slade watched as Dean discarded the flannel next, nothing in his movements even remotely sensual or playful.  Slade would have thought the man eager in his economic movements if it weren’t for the hesitation at removing the last article of clothing.  Dean’s worn, tanned fingers fiddled with the hem of the Henley and Slade dragged his eye up the broad chest to those splintered green eyes.  Slade expected uncertainty or insecurity, the mercenary readying himself for whatever annoying self-flagellation Dean most likely harbored.  Those green eyes only held a warning though, for what Slade didn’t know, but a warning Slade was positive he would not heed if it could benefit him.  Slade could play along though and gave a sharp incline of his head which had Dean exhaling and the soft black material bunching up before being tossed to the floor.

Slade kept his eye on Dean’s face for a moment more, long enough to get a dramatic huff and aborted eye roll out of the man.  With calculated indifference, Slade let himself slowly take in the man now bared to him.  Slade fought to keep himself still, to let know trace of emotion or thoughts creep to the surface.  What stood before him couldn’t be real.  Slade was expecting some scars, a man didn’t have hands like Dean’s, didn’t have eyes like Dean’s, without something else to show for it.  But Dean’s body was something else entirely.  The Lazarus Pit was the first explanation thought that crossed Slade’s mind, but subsequently quickly dismissed.  Never mind that the Pit would heal the scars, but this man did not have the resources to get to the Pit.  No, it wasn’t the Lazarus Pit that kept this man alive.  Slade’s eye landed on Dean’s shoulder and what could only be a handprint.  The other scars could have easy explanations, not how he survived some of them, but how he got them.  Slade could think of no one else who had scars like these. 

Slade met piercing green eyes once again, eyes that matched the body if not so much the outgoing carefree personality displayed throughout the night.  A personality that Slade would bet at one point in time was much more natural and not just a weathered safety net.  Not so very much Grayson after all.  No, if Slade was reading it right, this one and Todd would become more family to each other than the Bats ever were, that is, if they had the chance to meet.  Slade pulled himself back from his musings, focusing once again on Dean and the alluring sight before him.               

“Your turn,” Dean grinned as his arms crossed over his chest, “I gotta know if the carpets match the drapes after all.  Do you manscape, you seem like the type.”

Slade ignored the quips as he methodically stripped himself.  He watched Dean watch him as more skin was revealed.  Down to his own boxer briefs, Slade took a step towards Dean, hands returning to their previous positions on the man’s hip and the base of his throat.  Dean leans in this time, lips attaching themselves to Slade’s neck followed by the sharp nip of teeth.  Slade slid his hand up Dean’s neck and into his soft golden-brown hair, pulling the strands taut and arching Dean’s head back.  A low groan worked its way out of Dean’s soft lips as Slade bit at the younger man’s neck, bringing a bruise to the surface. 

It took little pressure for Slade to guide Dean down onto the bed, neck arched beautifully as Slade twisted his hair more, mouths fused together in a deep kiss.  Dean’s hands came up to grasp at Slade’s shoulders, nails digging into muscle.  Slade allowed it for a moment, the sharp bursts of pain heightening the pleasure of the kiss.  Slade pushed Dean the rest of the way down until the man was flat on his back, hips bucking up to seek friction from Slade.   

Slade let out a throaty chuckle at Dean’s whine as he leaned back and removed Dean’s hands from his shoulders.  Slade pinned Dean to the bed, one hand easily holding Dean’s wrists down above his head.  Slade grinned, body alight with satisfaction as he watched Dean struggle a bit more, testing the hold before quirking an eyebrow at Slade. 

“If I don’t get to ask about you, I expect the same courtesy,” Slade’s voice was stern, mocking as he watched Dean strain against his curiosity before finally settling with a snort. 

“Keep them there,” Slade squeezed Dean’s wrists before removing his hand to join the other one in propping himself up over Dean’s taut body. 

Beneath him, Dean was flush, freckles standing out and lips bitten red as his body relaxed into the mattress.  Something else neither Grayson or Todd would ever do, relax around Slade.  Slade smothered the small feeling of elation that writhed through him at the idea of having someone so very similar to the first two Robins willingly submitting to him.  It was a fantasy he rarely allowed himself to indulge in.

“Dude, who am I reminding you of so much that you’re cockblocking yourself,” Dean’s incredulous voice snapped Slade out of his thoughts.     

Slade quickly realized that he had stopped moving entirely, hands still braced on either side of Dean’s head while he had been just staring down at the man.  It was a miscalculation that had never occurred, not since he joined the military.  Slade’s good eye narrowed in on the man below him. 

“Look, I don’t care if you’re thinking of someone else while you fuck me, yeah it’s a bit insulting especially if I don’t know about it ahead of time cause then we could’ve role played that shit,” Dean rambled, shoulders shrugging as his arms dropped to his sides.

Slade was momentarily distracted at the image of Dean in the Red Hood regalia, but his attention was firmly drawn back to the man beneath him when those callous hands moved from their position.

“What did I say about your hands,” Slade growled, a pleased light shining in his eye when Dean’s mouth snapped shut, green eyes widening. 

A slow impish smile spread across Dean’s face, his hands moving away from his body and up Slade’s arms before settling back above his head.  The quirked eyebrow had Slade reaching for Dean’s nipple and giving it a harsh pinch.  The man gasping as his back arched into Slade’s fingers. 

“Are you going to behave now?” Slade leaned down and lapped at the abused nipple.

“Are you going to pay attention and actually fuck me?” Dean gasped back, a low groan stuttering out of his mouth as Slade bit down on a nipple. 

Slade answered by sliding his hands down and gripping Dean’s ass tight, lifting it slightly off the bed before he ripped those black boxer briefs in half, shredded fabric falling limply to the sides.  Dean cursed as his body shuddered, erection bobbing against Slade’s stomach.  Slade sat back on his knees before sliding off the bed, intent on Dean as he removed his own underwear and grabbed lube and condoms from his gear.  He made his way back to Dean, stopping by the head of the bed as he looked over the green-eyed man. 

Dean’s head was turned towards Slade, eyes roving over the mercenary in a way that made Slade’s insides clench, his cock thicken.  It was a heady thing, having control over someone’s pleasure.  To hold control over someone like Dean’s pleasure, well, Slade thrived in situations like these.  To have a man like Dean, like Grayson, or Todd laid out before him, scars and virtues bared was something Slade rarely, if ever, got to indulge in.  Slade kneeled on the bed, cock bobbing in front of Dean’s face, he was going to make this an indulgence to remember.

“Suck,” Slade swung his leg over Dean’s chest, hands grabbing the headboard as he dipped his hips down, cock smearing gasping lips. 

Slade dipped the head into Dean’s warm mouth.  Dean’s slick tongue flicking the nerves underneath before moving to tongue the slit as Slade clenched the headboard.  Inching his hips forward, Slade slid his cock over Dean’s tongue in shallow thrusts, lidded green eyes heavy as Dean watched him from underneath golden lashes.  Slade’s buttocks clenched in restraint, the desire to shove his hips forward and slide his cock down Dean’s throat as far as it could go was almost overwhelming.  Slade withheld a sigh, this man continued to test him, like some others he knew. 

The soft sucking sounds of Dean’s mouth drew him back as Slade eased his grip on the headboard.  Slade flexed his hips again, letting his cock slide deeper as Den opened his mouth wider.  A pleased moan from the man below him had a smirk flitting across Slade’s lips. The look didn’t go unnoticed by Dean as he started to hum around Slade’s cock, eyes alight in the lamp lit room. 

“Good boy,” Slade’s smirk grew at the groan muffled around his cock, Dean’s eyes sliding shut for a moment. 

After that little confirmation, Slade set an easy, shallow pace that allowed him to watch Dean squirm, trying to fit more of Slade’s cock into his mouth.  Saliva and semen coated Dean’s lips and chin when Slade pulled out and released the headboard, one leg swinging back over Dean’s body as Slade stretched out beside the man.  Slade’s fingers trailed over Dean’s swollen red lips, Dean nipping at the pads before sucking them in.  Slade removed them after a few moments, trailing them down Dean’s body before stopping at his cock.

Dean was hard and heavy, straining towards his stomach as Slade lightly teased the base.  Dean shuddered, his head turned towards Slade, tongue flickering out.  Slade leaned down and sealed his lips over Dean’s just as his hand shifted down to cup Dean’s balls and squeeze.  Dean’s startled cry was muffled by Slade’s demanding tongue as the man writhed in place, hands remaining above his head, fists clenched. 

“Such a good boy,” Slade chuckled as he released Dean’s testicles, gently cupping and rubbing his thumb over them. 

“Fuck, holy shit,” Dean panted, wide glassy eyes blinked up at Slade.   

“Play with your pert little nipples,” Slade hummed as he dipped back in to kiss Dean, hand still caressing his balls.

Dean’s mouth was addictive, laced with whiskey and warm, the man didn’t hold back when Slade took his lips.  Slade leaned over Dean more, getting a deeper angle and he felt Dean’s knuckles brush against his own nipples as Dean twisted and tweaked his.  Slade’s grip tightened on Dean’s sack once again.  Dean arched as he tore his mouth away from Slade, a hoarse cry falling from his lips as Slade’s mouth moved down to the man’s neck.  Slade bit down over Dean’s jugular as he pinched Dean’s testicles one more time, the man going tense beneath him, a deep husky moan tearing out of his chest as he released over his stomach.  A satisfied feeling spread through Slade’s chest even as he ignored the pulse of his own arousal.

“Fuck,” Dean gasped for breath, “usually, people discuss those things beforehand.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” Slade smirked as he stroked Dean’s thigh. 

“Still, not what I was expecting out of a one-night stand,” Dean grinned, face flushed. 

“Oh, the night not going your way then,” Slade threw back mockingly. 

“Well, I was expecting to get your dick in me, cause you didn’t seem like the type to half-ass anything,” Dean let out a hearty chuckle.

“Oh, don’t worry Dean, I am nowhere near done with you,” Slade smirked, hand slipping around to squeeze Dean’s ass. 

A glint in Dean’s satiated green eyes was the only warning before Slade found himself on his back, Dean straddling his hips with Slade’s cock nestled between Dean’s cheeks.  The glint turned into a satisfied smile as Slade tamped down his fight response and completed a subconscious reevaluation of Dean.  Slade gripped Dean’s hips as he studied him from this angle as Dean reached behind to stroke Slade’s cock with a sure, firm grip.  The angle was perfect.  It showcased Dean’s scars, his abs flexing as his hips rocked in the low glow of the room.  Slade’s hands travelled across the map that was Dean’s life.  Dean’s hips slowed, and Slade raised his eye to meet Dean’s gaze.

Green eyes were shuttered, that expressive face closed off in a way that if Slade were a lesser man, anyone other than himself, his blood would have chilled.  Instead, Slade’s hand skimmed up Dean’s arm to his shoulder and fitted itself over the handprint.  The reaction was instant, a harsh intake of breath followed by a sharp squeeze of the hand around Slade’s cock.  A warning Slade would not heed as he gripped Dean’s shoulder hard enough to bruise and flipped the man on his back, underneath Slade. 

Slade’s sudden movement was enough to startle Dean and dislodge Dean’s grip on him.  Slade ground his hips down into Dean’s, cutting off any protest and causing Dean’s cock to stir with interest.  Slade smirked at dean’s disgruntled grunt, the mercenary’s hands moving to fit around Dean’s waist and flipping the man once again.  Slade dragged Dean’s hips up, spreading the younger man’s knees as he made sure Dean’s chest remained on the bed.  Slade took in the sight before him as he reached for the condoms and lube.  Dean’s back was much like his front, a patchwork of scars.  Slade’s fingers skimmed across what looked like claw marks, none from any animal Slade had ever seen.  Dean twitched in impatience, head turning to glare at Slade from lust blown eyes.  Slade calmly uncapped the lube and covered his fingers, warming it up a bit. 

“Patience,” Slade chided as he ignored his own throbbing need, ghosting a finger over Dean’s puckered entrance.        

A low growl emanated from Dean’s throat before the man rocked back into Slade’s fingers, looking for friction.  Slade cocked an eyebrow before laying a sharp smack on Dean’s ass.  Dean’s fists clenched in the sheets next to his head, hips rocking forward with the force of the slap.  Slade went back to calmly circling Dean’s entrance, the tip of his finger breaching the hole every now and again.  Slade’s other hand wrapped around the front of Dean, twisting his nipples before sliding down to stroke Dean’s rising erection.  Slade fingers lightly danced across Dean’s cock before dropping down to tease Dean’s balls.  Dean’s body froze at the sensation of Slade’s fingers around his sack again.  Slade dropped his head down to Dean’s shoulder, face tucked into the man’s neck as he let a grin spread across his lips.  He sucked a mark into Dean’s neck before moving his hand back up to Dean’s cock, now fully erect. 

“Stop fucking teasing,” Dean’s body was shaking, teeth gritted as he scowled back at Slade.

“You like it,” Slade murmured as he slowly pushed his first finger in.

Dean let out a moan as Slade’s finger entered him in one swift movement.  Pumping his finger Slade watched as Dean’s back flexed, hips rocking back to meet Slade’s shallow thrusts.  Slade let out a small rumble of approval before sliding the second finger in with no warning.  Slade continued to slowly stoke Dean’s cock as the man got used to the added sensation.  Slade continued to pump his fingers as Dean slowly relaxed around them.  It took a few moments, but on one curled swipe Slade grazed that bundle of nerves that had Dean mewling as hips ground against Slade’s fingers.  Slade fit the third finger in immediately after and proceeded to abuse that spot deep within Dean, his other hand releasing Dean’s cock to quickly roll on a condom.    

“Finally getting to the good part then,” Dean hummed as Slade pulled his fingers out. 

Slade couldn’t restrain his bark of laughter.  He flipped Dean back over, the man’s bright green eyes burning as they looked up at Slade.  Slade wrapped Dean’s legs around his waist, cockhead teasing Dean’s entrance.  Dean tightened his legs and tilted his hips, Slade’s cock catching Dean’s hole.  Slade slid the tip in a moment later, groaning at the relief.       

“Oh, fuck, please,” Dean whimpered, and Slade strained to keep his body under control, to not just snap his hips forward and bury himself to the hilt. 

It didn’t matter.  Slade felt Dean shift, hands gripping Slade’s ass and legs pulling the mercenary forward until Slade’s cock was buried in Dean.  Slade moaned into Dean’s neck, nipping at the straining tendons before he reached back and grabbed Dean’s hands, fingers interlocked as Slade pinned them beside Dean’s head.  Slade tipped his head back as he started a punishing rhythm, eye staring into sublime green ones.  Slade mouthed along Dean’s jaw as the man met him thrust for thrust, deep moans and slick sounds filling the air.        

Slade felt Dean’s thighs clench and this time he was prepared and allowed Dean to flip them.  Slade was underneath Dean once again, the man straddling him with a triumphant smile, like Slade didn’t allow the maneuver to happen.  Dean reached back to take hold of Slade’s cock before easing himself back down on it, a soft sigh escaping Dean’s lips.  Slade grunted, his hands wrapping around the man’s waist as Dean set a languid deep pace.  A pace that didn’t last long as both men got impatient, chasing their release.  Slade’s hands tightened on Dean’s waist, hips bucking as he brought Dean down to meet each thrust.  Dean grinned down at Slade a moment before he began clenching every time he rose up Slade’s cock.  Slade’s breath stuttered at the sensations.  Their pace grew uneven, desperate as Slade groaned and Dean panted.  Slade felt Dean tighten, his own balls drawing up as Slade brought a hand away from Dean’s hip and landed one hard strike on Dean’s cock.  Dean shouted, his release spurting over Slade’s abs and chest, body slumping forward as Slade growled and slammed his hips into Dean a few more times before he shuddered, going slack.          

Slade laid in bed for the next ten minutes, Dean stretched out on by his side, face down, body lax and sated.  The pleasurable thrum of release slowly fading as his mind and instincts came back to the forefront.  Slade looked over at Dean and for a moment his mind replaced the man with someone else, someone younger with dark hair.  That was his sign, Slade got up and moved silently about the room, redressing and gathering his gear from the places he stashed it.        

“So, who did I replace?” Dean’s voice was rough.

“Excuse me?” Slade paused in his packing, head turned to look at Dean.

“Oh, come on man!  I must’ve reminded you of someone cause you definitely worked down your kink list on me and I can’t imagine anybody doing what we just did with a random one night stand,” Dean’s eyes were curious as they roamed over Slade. 

Slade was silent.  He stared Dean down trying to uncover any ulterior motive, but the younger man was just genuinely curious. 

“It was two people at first, then more just the one,” Slade shrugged nonchalantly, calculating that Dean wouldn’t take the opening, he was right.

“Well, whoever they are they must’ve had your panties in a twist for quite a while,” Dean chuckled as he stretched languorously on the sheets.   

“You don’t remind me of them anymore,” Slade lied as he walked back over to the bedside. 

“Well good, I like being my own man,” Dean grinned as he flopped over onto his back.

“Are you?” Slade’s voice was a smooth timber, “your own man?”  Slade’s eye slid back over the handprint on Dean’s shoulder, his own bruised print enhancing it. 

“In this life and the next,” Dean’s words were soft, absolute as his eyes glittered up at Slade.  Slade’s gaze lingered on Dean for a little while longer, tracing the scars that held the man together before he turned to finish packing. 

“Let me guess, morning sex after a one-night stand is a hard no for you,” Dean’s voice was muffled against the pillow.

“Check out is at 11.  Feel free to partake in the provided breakfast,” Slade answered as he zipped up his gear. 

“That makes you ruining the afterglow only slightly better,” Dean’s voice trailed off as he slipped into sleep. 

Slade took one last glance at the sleeping man.  Hair mused, lips swollen and parted, Dean looked thoroughly debauched.  Slade allowed himself a small feeling of gratitude towards the man as he shut the door with a click.  Out in the parking lot in the early morning light, Slade walked past Dean’s Baby and paused.  It took nothing for Slade to open the passenger side door and pop open the glove compartment.  The spare gun and knife were no surprise, the fake federal IDs were an interesting twist.  There was nothing else noteworthy in the car, just a box full of cassette tapes.  Slade got out, locked and shut the door before making his way to the trunk. 

Getting the trunk open was only slightly more difficult, but Slade popped it open easily enough.  Slade looked in and mild surprise flickered across his face, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in the trunk either.  An extra duffle with clothes, a med kit that would rival his, and some backs of salt.  Slade raised his head ready to shut the trunk when he stopped, hand tightening on the trunk door above his head.  Right below said hand was what appeared to be a pentagram spray painted white.  Slade studied it for a moment, committing the design to memory before taking another look at the trunk.  It took a moment for Slade to notice the false bottom, but after removing the stuff on top Slade opened it.  Slade straightened and dropped his hands to his side as he looked upon the weapons cache inside the trunk.  He tilted his head as he studied the other objects strewn about the weapons; books, small velvet or silk bags, bones, jars, matches, lighters, cannisters of oil, and religious totems.  Slade’s eye caught on small black lock box in the back corner.  He opened it and found a leather-bound journal, the journal of John Winchester and his sons, Sam and Dean.  Slade shut the journal after reading the names on the inside cover.  He locked it back up and closed the false bottom once again.  After everything was back in its place in the trunk, Slade took one last look at the pentagram before solidly closing the trunk and making his way to his motorcycle.    

“See you around Dean,” Slade’s bike rumbled to life beneath him as he pulled out and headed into the sunrise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments or Kudos!


End file.
